


Once A Year

by smithandbarrowman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, F/M, Pining Hermione Granger, Smut, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: Once a year Lucius Malfoy returns to the world he left behind, as a reminder of who he used to be. With his freedom just hours away, he runs into the one person who should never forgive him. But if he can change his ways, maybe she’ll surprise him too.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 30
Kudos: 203





	Once A Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PotionChemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/gifts).



> A little birthday one-shot for the members of Strictly Lumione's Facebook group. 
> 
> Much thanks to my partner in crime, [PotionChemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist) for collaborating with me for Strictly Lumione's first birthday

* * *

Once a year, I would come here. Once a year, I would sit and lament the life I’d once had. The life I now had. 

Everything had changed and I was still undecided if it was for the better. My sham of a marriage was over. Arranged on the occasion of Narcissa’s birth, my life had been mapped out for me, as it had been for generations of my family. But my former wife — who never loved me but saw fit to take her share of my family fortune — had divorced me the second the war ended and had taken up with a younger man. My son took over my home — _his_ home — now that he had married and produced an heir. And I was left with a third of my fortune and a terrace house in the middle of a world I would never have entered before.

Nine years and all I had ever known was no longer. The prestige, the traditions, the place I once held in wizarding society were all but a fading memory of a past that was beaten to a bloody pulp. 

I sat on a stool at the corner of the bar, surprised and confused at the lack of patrons. My past was well-known in this place, but the quiet allowed me to breathe a little easier. 

I had been given a reprieve at the end of the war in return for my knowledge of every Death Eater that had followed the Dark Lord into Hogwarts. I was, of course, labelled a traitor by both sides. The Death Eaters threatened my existence, and the Order was sceptical of my information. 

The Ministry sentenced me to nine years suspended — my information had filled Azkaban to near bursting — and my sentence made me keep to myself. I ventured into wizarding society only when absolutely necessary, finding that I rather enjoyed some aspects of Muggle London.

The vastness of the city allowed for my anonymity, and the Muggle tailor I had happened across assisted me in further blending in. The Muggle attire had been surprisingly comfortable. Well-fitting trousers and shirts. Waistcoats and jackets that were better than anything I’d worn prior. And cashmere jumpers were something new, but welcomed enthusiastically. 

Although not everything had been welcomed with that same enthusiasm. The noise of the traffic, the sheer amount of people hurrying all over the place, the pollution. It was why I preferred the quiet village-like part of London that was Primrose Hill. 

My terrace allowed me a panoramic view over the sprawling park. Small cafes and eateries were within walking distance. Tea rooms and several small pubs that served scotch, the likes of which I’d never tasted, had become a part of my weekly routine. 

But this pub. This dingy, dusty ramshackle pub was a yearly reminder of just who I was. 

And who I had become. 

“Welcome back, Mr Malfoy.” Hannah Abbott smiled warmly and placed my usual firewhisky on the bar in front of me. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Ms Abbott.” I tilted the glass towards her then took a sip. It was bitter and harsh, very unlike the whisky I had become accustomed to. “It’s quiet tonight.”

“The Ministry’s three hundred year anniversary. Everyone’s gone to the beach for the weekend.” She smiled again. “Did you forget?”

I _had_ forgotten. The celebrations had been in the planning stages for months and I’d decided the second the holiday weekend was announced that I would avoid it. Plus, my own quiet celebration of my freedom was of more importance. To me, anyway. 

“Well, Ms Abbott, I might have to leave a rather generous tip.” I reached into my pocket and took out my coin pouch, dropping it onto the bar. “A quiet pub isn’t good for you, but it is most pleasant for me.”

“It’s fine, Mr Malfoy. Sometimes a quiet night is a blessing.” 

“Indeed it is.” 

I looked up at the voice and was taken aback at who it belonged to. 

Hermione Granger. 

_Brightest Witch of her age.  
Member of the Golden Trio.  
_ _Ministry darling_. 

I was even more taken aback at the fact she sat right beside me. 

“Hermione!” Ms Abbott exclaimed. “I’ve not seen you in months.”

“Gin and lime, thanks, Han.” Ms Granger leaned over the bar and the two women shared an embrace. “I’ve been… _ah_ —” she glanced in my direction “—busy.”

Ms Abbott tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially. “Say no more.”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to.” Ms Granger grinned then turned to look at me. “Good evening, Mr Malfoy.”

“Good evening, Ms Granger… Mrs Weasley.”

Her eyes went wide and she laughed. “Mrs Weasley? You have been out of the loop, haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” I straightened my spine; her laughter made me uncomfortable.

“I’m not now, nor have I ever been, Mrs Weasley,” she informed me. “Ronald wasn’t the person I thought he was.”

“Most people aren’t who they first appear to be. I’ve learned the hard way.” I stared down at my glass. _What the hell was that? This wasn’t a confessional._

“Too true, Mr Malfoy. I find myself believing the same.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was still watching me, a tiny smirk on her face.

“You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m just here for a drink. The same as you,” she said. “I can move away if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

I looked back up at her and shook my head. “The seat was vacant and I’ve no right to tell you where to sit.”

There were only three other patrons in the pub, and she’d chosen to sit right beside me. It was a mystery as to why.

Our history was volatile, to say the least. She had more right than anyone to hate me, to want my sentence extended, to want me rotting in Azkaban with the others. But she’d not used her name or position to vilify me. She had, in fact, spoken in the positive for me at my trial, and I was sure it was the only reason I’d not lost my mind at the mouth of a Dementor. 

“Again, this is true.” She downed her drink and asked for another. “I think you have changed, Mr Malfoy. You once only told lies. And now, in only a matter of minutes, you’ve told only the truth.”

I laughed quietly. The young girl who had once been terrified of me clearly no longer existed. 

“Yes, well, lies become no one. And as I said, I’ve learned the hard way.”

“But you have learned. And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

“It seems, Ms Granger, you also speak the truth.”

“It’s a hazard of my job, I’m afraid.”

I frowned. It wasn’t my business, but I was drawing a blank when it came to what she did for work. And her reaction to Ms Abbott’s remark caused me to think it was best I not ask. 

“It’s rare you’re seen in Wizarding Britain anymore.”

“I mostly keep to myself.” I swallowed the remainder of my whisky and it instantly refilled. “My yearly trip to Ms Abbott’s establishment is a reminder to myself of what I once was. But, my new life in the Muggle world means less people can find me.”

“There’s a trace on you still, Lucius... Well, at least there is until midnight.” She winked knowingly at me. “So even when you’re not at home, you’re easy to find.”

“How is it that you’re privy to the fact there is a trace on me?”

She shrugged one shoulder and ordered another drink. “I’m the Golden Girl. I can simply click my fingers and get whatever it is that I want.”

“That’s quite the abuse of your station.”

“Go ahead and inform the Ministry. Maybe they’ll kick me out. Lord knows how many times I’ve tried to quit. They just keep throwing more money at me.”

I actually laughed at her words. “Are they so desperate?”

“To keep a Mudblood, you mean?” She turned on the barstool and faced me, the fire in her eyes dared me to agree.

“Of course not. Your blood is irrelevant.” I signalled for another drink. “What I meant was, is the Ministry so desperate they would sacrifice funds that could be used for more beneficial purposes just to keep you?”

She narrowed her eyes at me then a smile slowly crawled across her lips. “I’m probably richer than you are. That’s how desperate they are.”

“That’s not a stretch these days, Ms Granger. If you know my whereabouts, I’m sure you are well aware of my monetary situation.”

She laughed, a startling beautiful sound that warmed me more than it should have. “I think a third of your wealth is still more money than most people would see in their lifetime.”

“But not you?”

“No, Lucius—” her hand squeezed my thigh “—not me. I’m rather well off.”

She turned back to the bar and began to converse with Ms Abbott, but her hand remained on my leg. It was warm, even through the fabric of my trousers, and that warmth was spreading quickly through me. 

It had been years since a woman touched me. My former wife was hardly what I would call responsive, and she rarely touched me first. My marriage could scarcely be called a marriage, especially when my wife preferred other men. And the few dalliances I’d had — while she’d had many — were long before the war ended. But I’d not even dined with a woman since my sentence was handed down, let alone had one touch me like she was.

The pub’s door opened and Ms Abbott turned away to greet the newcomer. Ms Granger glanced over her shoulder, a wicked smile forming on her face. 

“Lucius, are you almost done?”

I lifted my glass to my lips and slowly drank the spicy liquid, forcing my face to remain passive as the burn hit my throat. I placed the glass back on the bar and finally caught her eye.

“I had planned to stay a bit. Ms Abbott’s lack of patronage will not be good for her purse.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She slid her hand higher, her fingertips brushing the side of my cock causing it to stir to life. “I was hoping you would escort me home.” 

She stood, downed the rest of her drink, and winked at me. “Good night, Lucius. This could have been fun.”

I was thunderstruck as she waved to Hannah, then strode out the door without even a glance back at me. Ms Abbott moved to stand in front of me. 

“I’m assuming there’s nothing else you need tonight?” Her eyes flicked quickly to the door. When she looked back at me, she repeated her earlier words. “Sometimes a quiet night is a blessing.”

“That should cover your loss of income this evening.” I nodded and tossed my coin pouch at her, ignoring her protest as I rushed out the door. 

I glanced up and down the street, but Ms Granger was nowhere to be seen. 

“Dammit,” I swore under my breath then heard a very girly giggle from the alley beside the pub. She stepped out into the street, the wicked grin still gracing her features. 

“Did you change your mind?” 

I nodded dumbly.

“But however will Hannah fill her purse without you drinking that vile whisky?”

I managed to regain my senses and I held up my palms. “It appears I have left my entire pouch of Galleons on the bar. I’m sure Ms Abbott will be grateful for the recompense.”

She stepped closer to me and even in the subdued light filtering out of the pub’s windows, I could see the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. 

“Are you going to escort me home?”

“I, _ah_ , the trace on me…” 

The trace would be lifted at midnight, the official end of my sentence. But midnight was still two hours away, and if I took her up on her offer to _escort_ her home, the Aurors would know I was there. But if she was to _escort_ me home, they’d have no idea. The trace only extended outside my home. I had been afforded _some_ privacy. There _was_ a separate trace on my home to allow the Aurors to know I had company, but not who. Unless that ‘who’ had a warrant out on them. But, other than my son, she would be the only other person to visit my home.

“Ah, yes. The trace.” She pressed her hand to my chest. “I’ve not been to Primrose Hill, but I hear you have a rather large… home there.”

* * *

She didn’t even glance around when I Apparated us into the entrance hall of my home. She flung her arms around my neck and crashed her mouth to mine. I stumbled slightly, reaching out to grab the banister of the stairs, stopping us from toppling over. 

Her mouth was firm, opening against mine and sucking on my bottom lip. She was nothing like the subdued pureblood women I had associated with. Their mild manners and expectations of a man in control were what I was used to, not the hard and desperate need of the whirlwind that was this woman. 

Her hands began to pluck at the buttons on my shirt and I reached for her wrists stopping her. 

“Ms Granger,” I began, but the quirk of her eyebrow made me start over. “ _Hermione_ , what exactly is this?”

“This is me wanting to tear your clothes off.” She struggled against my hold, but I needed a clearer explanation.

“I can see that. But I only visit The Leaky Cauldron once a year. Did you use your pull at the Ministry to find me there?”

She stopped struggling and smiled at me. “No, Hannah informed me that you were there.”

I loosened my grip on her wrist and she dropped her hands to her sides. “Why would she do that?”

“Because I asked her to.”

I stared at her, perplexed. “Ms Grang—Hermione. It appears that my ability to comprehend the facts here is somewhat blurred... if you would be so kind to explain why.”

“I’ve been watching you, Lucius. Closely. For quite a few years now.” She lifted her hand and traced her fingertip along my jaw. “You’ve changed. You’re a much stronger and wiser man than you once were. And I’ve found myself wondering...”

“Wondering what?”

She ran her finger down the line of buttons on my shirt. “Wondering if you’re the same man underneath.”

I swallowed hard; I wasn’t sure what exactly was going on. “I find myself wondering just what you’re expecting.”

“I was expecting that a man as attractive as you would gladly have me in his bed.”

My jaw dropped open. I assumed that was why she had teased me in the pub, why she had waited outside and teased me again. 

Why she was standing in my home. 

But to hear the words so plainly put, was something I wasn’t accustomed to. 

“Is that what you really want?” I managed to ask.

“It really is.”

“But why?” I shook my head. “Why me?”

“Lucius Malfoy.” She moved closer, snaking her arms around my waist. “You are one of the most attractive men I know. And if you’re truly curious, I have been crushing on you since the end of the war.”

“What?” The word was barely a whisper as I spoke it, not believing what she was saying.

“You were cruel and unkind to me as a child. You were so blinded by hatred, but I saw a different man that day. One who would protect his son over all others. One who would give his own life if it meant his son’s was saved. A man who would do that could easily change.” She leaned forward and pressed her face to my throat, inhaling deeply. “And since I’m being honest, I much prefer more refined and more experienced men to boys who simply want to play.”

I was at a loss. It made no sense. Watching me. _Crushing_ on me. For years. I was certain this was just some kind of ruse.

“Is this some kind of game, Ms Granger? To fill some kind of obscene fantasy to sleep with the man who tormented you? Who was cruel to you?” I stepped away, needing some distance to clear my head and she actually looked disappointed, almost hurt. “Because I won’t play that game. I’m not the man I once was and will _never_ be him again.”

“I have no obscene fantasy, not of the type you’re referring to anyway.” She took a deep breath and looked me directly in the eye. “I am an Unspeakable, Lucius. I have had to hold in my feelings for you because of that. My job doesn’t allow me to be frivolous with my relationships, be it friends or otherwise. But, the trace on you ends tonight. Your sentence is up and you are a free man again. And your freedom means I can associate with you without scrutiny from the Ministry or anyone else.”

My jaw dropped open once again. _An Unspeakable?_ She was top secret in the Ministry. She belonged to one of the most highly respected professions in the magical world. And she had—

“Your feelings for me?”

“I’ve not abused any kind of power in my position. Keeping secrets is a part of what we do. But the trace on you is watched within the Department of Mysteries, not just by the Aurors. We don’t watch as closely, but the workings of Death Eaters, and former Death Eaters, is a mystery in itself. And as such, your name on the DoM list has meant I’ve not been able to approach you until now… despite my wanting to.”

I stared at her, my mind unable to understand what she was saying. This woman. This beautiful, talented, intelligent woman had wanted to _approach_ me?

“Why did you follow me out of the pub?” she asked.

“My interactions with the opposite sex have been non-existent in recent times,” I admitted. “And your actions confused me.”

“My job means I have to be cautious.” She smiled apologetically at me. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been in this instance. Lucius, I have been watching you, and I have been terrified that another woman would win your affections before I had the chance. The trace still has two hours, and I know you said there’ve been few other women, but I couldn’t wait and and I assumed that since you brought me here—”

I pushed her against the wall and covered her mouth with mine. In an instant, the worry and the caution and the terror of actually living my life dissolved. I’d hidden in the shadows for too long and had not allowed anyone in. I had assumed that people would only see the worst in me, not the changes. But in one fell swoop, this woman proved once more that everything I believed was wrong. 

I swallowed her sound of surprise, pressing my mouth harder against hers. Her lips were warm and soft, tasting of the gin she’d been drinking, and opening without hesitation to let me in. Her groan when my tongue touched hers set me alight and the need to taste every inch of her became an urgency that almost overwhelmed me.

I kissed along her jaw and whispered in her ear, “Are you sure?”

“Lucius, yes.” She groaned again as I grazed her earlobe with my teeth. “I’ve wanted this for so long… I feel like I’m losing my mind right now.”

We were in my bedroom in less than a second, my mouth still pressing kisses along her jaw. “Then let me do this properly. Let me show you how a refined and experienced man treats a woman.”

She nodded and I took a step back. Smiling, I unclasped the cuff links at my wrists, dropping the silver fastenings unceremoniously to the floor, then slowly began to unfasten the buttons on my shirt. She grasped the tie at her waist — the tie that was holding her dress together — and I tutted.

“Don’t you dare, Hermione. You will watch me undress, then I will take the time to discover you.”

She smirked at me, but lowered her hand. “Very well, Lucius. But please hurry things along. I find myself becoming quite…” she shifted from one foot to the other “...damp.”

I clenched my jaw. She was pushing, but I wouldn’t be rushed. I tugged my shirttails from my trousers, unfastening the last few buttons and letting it fall to the floor. I kicked off my shoes, then lifted each foot, pulling my socks off and tossing them across the room. Her eyes followed my hands as they went to the fall of trousers. I released the button, then slowly lowered the zipper, the sound loud as each tiny clasp unlocked. 

My trousers hit the floor and I kicked them away. Her eyes were locked on the stretched cotton of my underwear. I moved closer to her, taking the dress tie in my fingers, but her hand closed over mine.

“I thought you were undressing.” Her eyes remained lowered.

I chuckled. “As you wish, Hermione.”

Retreating half a step, I shoved my pants down my legs, kicking them in the same direction as my trousers. My cock stretched proudly out from my body and the hitch in her breath told me she was impressed. 

“Now, are you ready?” I reached for the tie again and tugged gently and her eyes finally found mine. Her pupils were blown, her cheeks flushed, and teeth were digging into her bottom lip.

I pulled the knot and her dress fell open. My own breath hitched as she was revealed. She was smooth skin and curves, lush breasts and hips that itched to be gripped. 

She was the image of perfection. 

Sliding my hands across her shoulders, I eased the fabric of her dress down her arms. It fluttered to the floor leaving her standing before me in the barest of white lace. 

“You are quite the vision, Hermione. I pray thanks to the entity who allowed me this privilege.”

“No entity had a hand in this, Lucius.” She reached behind her back and the lace covering her breasts fell to the floor. “I make the decisions that affect my life, so you can simply thank me.”

I pulled her to me, my cock folding between us and pressing against the softness of her stomach. “Thank you, Ms Granger, for this honour.”

“So proper,” she laughed, her nipples tightening against my chest as I gripped her arse in both my hands. “Or, maybe not.”

“Propriety is the height of good manners,” I said with a grin and lifted her, carrying her across the room and tossing her to the bed. Crawling over her, I settled between her open thighs. “But I am sensing good manners are not what you’re craving.”

“Good manners have their place. The bedroom, however, is definitely _not_ that place.”

“That’s good to know.” 

Lifting her breast, I plumped it in my hand, and with a wink, I leaned down and sucked her nipple into my mouth. She tasted like the sweet scent of summer rain — fresh and clean and pure. Her hand went to my hair, the sharp bite of her nails heightening the sensation of her body beneath me. 

“Lucius…” 

My name was a little more than a breath as she spoke it. But it was a breath that pulled me further under her spell. 

I moved slowly down her body, kissing every dip and curve, loving the heat of her skin on my lips. I kissed the curve of her hip and across her stomach, curling my fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She raised her hips and I dragged the lace down her legs. 

My breath caught when I looked at her. She was completely bare. 

“Lucius?”

I ran my fingers across her skin. “I’ve never been with...”

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not sure...” 

I touched her again, her smooth skin was a wonder. The few women I’d been with had taken obvious care of themselves, but none of them had ever been completely bare. 

Dipping my head, I held my lips against her, humming into her skin. Her scent was dizzying and when I touched the tip of my tongue to her damp core, I almost lost my head. She pulled her legs higher and wider, a clear message that she wanted me to continue. 

Taking my time, I tasted and teased, my tongue lapping, my lips sucking, my fingers slowly sliding inside her heat. Her hands gripped my hair, her body arched and rocked against my mouth. I closed my eyes and everything became about feeling and hearing. 

The feeling of her wet skin on my tongue.  
The sound of her breaths, her murmured words.   
The scrape of her nails, the soft touch of her thighs against my head. 

Feeling her urgency, I curled my fingers inside her and sucked harder on her clit. I wanted to feel her body respond. I wanted to hear her sounds when she fell. Her words became clearer, telling me _more_ , and _don’t stop_ , and _harder_. I did as she asked, my fingers and mouth working her until she gasped and cried out sharply. Her body shuddered and her legs clamped hard against my head. Her release spread across my tongue, and I didn’t think I had ever tasted a sweeter flavour than hers.

Her legs fell away from my head and I stroked my tongue over her drenched skin one last time before moving up her body to kiss her deeply. Her hands roamed over me, her nails scratching, her fingers tickling and reaching between us. I watched as she circled my cock, sliding her hand up and down. 

“Please,” she whispered and positioned me against her. “Lucius, please.”

I groaned as I surged forward, lowering my body over hers and sheathing myself fully inside her. I exhaled slowly; the sensation of her was incredible. She was snug around my cock, her body warm and inviting, and in my selfishness, I thought, made just for me. 

“Move,” she groaned. “Let me feel you.”

Wrapping her thighs around my hips, I began to move. Pulling out of her and sliding back in, her wet channel squeezing and fluttering around me. I wound my hands into her hair, kissing her again while I continued to thrust into her. She met my hips with hers, matching my rhythm as easily as if we’d done this a thousand times already. 

She felt so good, so soft, so warm, so incredibly perfect. 

I lifted off her and touched my fingers to her clit. She cried out, lifting her head to watch my hand and my cock push her to fall over the edge. 

And she was stunning when she fell. Her big brown eyes wide and staring, her neck taut, and her mouth open on a silent scream. She spasmed around me, her entire body tightening and her breath catching. 

I pulled out of her and she whined, making me laugh. 

“Patience, little lion. I’m not nearly finished.”

I flipped her over, slapping her arse and grabbing her hips, pulling her roughly back to me. Her wail was almost deafening as I impaled her on my cock once more. Her hands grasped ineffectually at the sheets, but I didn’t let up. I fucked into her hard, my balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. She was close again, her body already spasming around me again. 

“Already?” I teased. “You’re so responsive, little lion. How many will you give me?”

She groaned and slammed her arse against my stomach. “I’ll come on your cock until I pass out.”

I laughed and slapped her arse again. “Cheeky.”

She glanced over her shoulder, grinning wildly. “How long will you last? I’m sure it’s been a while for you.”

I slapped her other cheek and she moaned. “Very cheeky. Maybe I should gag you.”

She shoved back against me again. “Maybe you should just stop talking and fuck me.”

I slapped her again. Three sharp smacks that pulled a heavy groan from her. She was beyond perfect and I was hoping deep inside this wasn’t just a one-off. 

I gripped her hips and pounded into her, fucking her hard and fast. It was like nothing I’d ever known. I had only ever dreamed of fucking a woman like this, had only ever closed my eyes and pleasured myself to the thought. However, I’d never dreamed that woman would be _Hermione Granger._

“ _Lucius_!” She screamed my name and collapsed to the bed. 

I followed her down, bracing my arms beside her shoulders, my body still pumping into hers. I felt her orgasm coat my cock, the wet release forcing my balls to tighten and my cock to swell.

I groaned, arching my body and pressing deep inside her. My own orgasm slammed into me, rolling along my spine and shooting out of me. It was a release like I’d never known. My arms shook as an unfamiliar euphoria washed over me, and I landed heavily on her.

“Lucius?”

“Hmmm?” I murmured into her neck.

“Just checking you’re still alive.” She chuckled.

I kissed her shoulder then rolled off her. She turned her head to look at me, smiling blissfully. 

I reached out and squeezed her hip. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you just how alive I am.”

* * *

I woke from a sleep of the kind I’d not experienced in years. Deep and restful, no dreams of dark, haunting shapes. I stretched and slowly opened my eyes, the light of early morning cast a diffused haze across the room. 

Smiling, I rolled to my side, only to find the bed empty. I lifted my head, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

My spirit instantly deflated. She’d woken before me and left, realising she made a huge mistake. 

I should have known. I shouldn’t have fallen under her spell. I shouldn’t—

“Happy birthday!” 

She was standing in the doorway wearing my shirt and holding a cupcake with a single candle on it. And she was grinning at me. 

“You thought I’d left, didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

She snorted a laugh. “You’ve forgotten how to lie.” 

I sat up and smiled. “Well, I was a little shocked you weren’t lying beside me when I woke. I’m even more surprised you know it’s my birthday.”

“I know many things.” She crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed. “Happy birthday, Lucius. Make a wish.”

She held up the small cake and I closed my eyes. There was no need for wishes, they had all been granted. 

Opening my eyes, I blew out the candle and then touched her cheek. 

“Well, look at that. Birthday wishes do come true.”


End file.
